Of Two Worlds
by Pat Foley
Summary: Amanda becomes a target of antiFederation forces. The Enterprise, with Kirk, McCoy and Spock, and a mysterious Federation Intelligence Agent, is sent in to assist. UPDATED with Chapters 3 and 4
1. Chapter 1

**Of Two Worlds**

**By**

**Pat Foley**

Chapter 1

**Surrender, Amanda**

"Congratulations, Dr. Grayson!"

Amanda scanned the group of colleagues and students crowding her office, complete with balloons, suspended light candles, holographic banners, and a cake. Even parsecs from Earth, humans didn't change much. "Who's responsible for this?" she said mock severely.

"As if it were a surprise!" said Zan, the department secretary, handing her the cake knife. "After she's heard us all plotting and whispering in corners for days."

"Now don't be overly modest, Amanda," Darsai Sdai, one of her favorite adjunct faculty, accepted a slice of cake. "A Zi Magni prize. Your department can at least give you a small party."

"Especially since we're all going to benefit from the students and grants that this will generate for the VSA," another wickedly observed. "And now for the final honor, prepared by all of your doctoral students."

Amanda looked up from cake cutting, to see Tony Meyers, Tavril, Sjun, and Gena Ayoto carrying in a lumpy figure on a computer stand, shrouded by a labcoat. The students whipped away the covering to display a horrendous sculpture of what appeared to be herself. "We made it out of the backup data cartridges you used on the project."

Amanda whipped horrified eyes to Zan, who raised a hand in protest.

"I made copies."

"Of course you'll display it in a place of honor always," Tony chuckled evilly.

Amanda looked back at the monstrosity, and groaned.

Later, winging her way home from the Academy, with the sculpture weighing down the back of the aircar like a bad conscience, (her students had carried it there, protesting that of course she would want to show such a work of art to Sarek) Amanda flipped on the news, listening with concern to the latest events in the worsening political situation in the Federation. Sarek received far more accurate morning updates with the latest, most accurate and confidential information from both Vulcan and Federation security services, but she couldn't help checking what the regular media was reporting, with the same expectant dread with which a child nudges a loose tooth.

The political weight and climate in the Federation was swinging, with all the slow, ponderous motion of the enormous forces if which it was built. Non-humanoids were once a relative minority in a Federation dominated by Terra, its numerous Terran colonies, and the inexplicably large number of worlds where humanoids had either been 'seeded' or had independently developed. But each year the Federation expanded its boundaries, more non-humanoids worlds were granted Federation membership, and those non-humanoid members were gradually reaching the point of equity.

The Federation had been created initially to provide a system of government for Terra and her colonies, and that had not been long enough ago, historically, for that influence not to be felt. Sarek had amassed much of his political prominence in the Federation from his ability to cast Vulcan's positions into Federation law, to play the Federation's game and beat them at it. Power attracted power, and more and more non-humans, particularly those with non-human philosophies or with esper or other non-humanoid senses, aligned themselves with Vulcan, or in other non-human camps. It made for an explosive situation politically, but the non-humans had been enough of a minority to either require a significant portion of the Terran colonies or independent humans to align with them, to carry any opposing point. Now they were close to an equality that was disturbing that balance of power. It was causing some hysteria among the more strongly conservative human worlds, and had caused some serious battles over admitting some recent non-humanoid applicants to the Federation. There were discussions about a general session to rewrite the Federation constitution. Even as more non-human worlds joined the Federation, there were threats on both sides to cede from the Federation, the non-human worlds for its human oriented prejudices, the most conservative human ones because they foresaw the inevitable loss of Terran dominated majority. Amanda saw an explosive general session coming, the only question was when this unwelcome prediction would come true.

She was concentrating so closely on the newscast, she didn't notice the strange sound coming from the aircar instrument panel until the comm systems died. In and outgoing. And then everything else. Nearly forty years of experience with Vulcan quality and multi-level backups gave her a moment's disbelief before she began to struggle with systems that were universally failing. And wonder if she was going to be next. Amanda felt a moment's gratitude that she was over an unpopulated desert. At least she didn't have to worry about where she went down, for down she was going, and all her navigational and propulsion controls were useless. There wasn't enough aerodynamics about the design of the craft to slow its descent much, even if she had some breaking power. She felt regret for the full fuel cells, that left her a choice between an explosive crash, or ditching the craft to take her chances freefall in heavy gravity. Neither seemed very viable. Suddenly she stared at the refueling gage again, and pressed the control. The interlocks opened and the craft lurched upward drunkenly as the air spoiled around the baffles. The gage dropped as fuel spilled into the desert sands below, and the open baffles, while unable to generate lift, did provide enough resistance to slow her rate of descent. Not much, Amanda thought grimly, but something, and she was still losing altitude far too rapidly for an easy landing. Amanda strapped herself in as the ground came up to meet her, and then everything went black.

When she came to, her head ached abominably. She remembered falling, and hitting the ground with a tremendous crash. Amanda opened her eyes groggily to see a sharp-faced women, black eyes, black hair, and a disapproving expression on her green-tinged face. She looked familiar somehow. Then Amanda remembered where she had seen her before. "The Witch of the West," she murmured in dismay, the feeling of having been flattened suddenly taking on meaning. And suddenly the crash had meaning too.

"I didn't **mean **to hit her with the house." Amanda explained before blackness claimed her again. Later, a familiar voice called her back insistently. She didn't want to open her eyes if she was still in Oz. She was far too tired to melt any witches.

"Am I back in Kansas yet?"

"Lady Amanda?" More green tinged faces.

"There's no place like home." Amanda repeated dutifully. "No place like home. No place--"

"Amanda."

"Tell her I don't want her ruby slippers," Amanda said urgently. "Once I get home, I'll send them back, I promise."

"Amanda." Sarek said strongly.

Amanda blinked, trying to see through a maze of cobwebs a room that was dazzlingly bright, as if Glinda, the good witch of the North, had just arrived. The person before her was familiar, but he didn't match any of the faces she was hoping to see. Instead, he looked like the brother of the Witch of the West.

"Your aircar crashed in the desert outside of Shikar, Amanda. You injured no bystanders. And you have never been to Kansas."

There are no deserts in Oz, Amanda thought fuzzily, and who the hell is Amanda? She was Dorothy, wasn't she? Sarek was looking down at her, tense and a little stern. She must have scared him badly, he was holding her hand tightly enough that it felt like a vise. The pain sobered her and she suddenly remembered.

"Boy, those painkillers pack quite a kick." Amanda shook her head slightly, trying to clear her head of drug induced dreams. "I dreamed… I dreamed…" She caught her breath at the pain that swept over her just from shaking her head. "Oh, I wish I was dreaming still. That **hurts**."

"Try to move as little as possible." Sarek suggested.

"Darling, I hope you don't take this amiss, but try to **talk** as little as possible," she murmured. "And tonight, I have a headache. Really."

"This is a time to be serious, my wife."

"Oh…" she moaned. "You do that well enough for both of us. Go away. I need to sleep."

"You will require time to fully recover. But the authorities have questions to ask of you, if you can answer." Sarek released the punishing grip he had on her hand. The sudden surcease of that minor pain against her major ones sobered her a little.

Amanda opened her eyes again. The room danced around her like shards of a broken crystal. She recognized the signs of a concussion. And then her memory came back. "Sarek, that aircar--"

"It is being investigated." Sarek's eyes flashed dangerously. "It was clever to dump the fuel, Amanda. You would not have survived otherwise. The conflagration afterwards would have eliminated any evidence. But now we have many clues."

"Saving the aircar was hardly on my mind." Amanda said dryly.

"Undoubtedly not. But the result is fortuitous." Sarek hesitated. "Can you answer questions, my wife? It is rather important."

"I suppose. I don't think I remember much. I don't remember there being much **to** remember. Just everything failed and then I went down."

"As long as you are quite sure," Sarek said, brushing her hair needlessly back from her face, and allowing the hand to linger on her cheek, "that you are not in Oz."

"At least there," Amanda said grimly, "Dorothy knew who was after her."

_This might be part of the Holo series or a standalone. I have half a dozen chapters written and haven't decided where to place it. Any suggestions?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Two Worlds**

**By**

**Pat Foley**

**Chapter 2**

**A Tinker, A Soldier, A Sailor, A Spy**

Kirk paused in the corridor outside the transporter room as his first officer joined him, with McCoy not far behind. "Spock. I don't expect --" he hesitated. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Quite, Captain." The Vulcan avoided McCoy's discerning, sympathetic glance.

"All right," Kirk said reluctantly. "But don't push yourself. Vulcan controls or not, you --" he swallowed words he suddenly knew he shouldn't say, and growled softly. "Let's go."

The three men entered the transporter room where the Captain nodded stiffly to the transporter technician.

The Federation Intelligence officer they picked up was a perfectly ordinary sort of human who could easily disappear into any crowd, and his team were all cast out the same mold. Even when not bent on disappearing, he had a reserve that suggested he concentrating on subliminal cues everyone else was missing. And disturbingly unlike most people, he registered no presence or aura in a room. Even after they beamed him up, Kirk still would have sworn, that except for the evidence of his eyes, there was no one in the transporter chamber. He supposed it was a wonderful trait for a spy, but it made Kirk uneasy. The spy's name, at least for the moment, was Art Fellows. Who knew what it really was.

Kirk introduced himself, welcomed the agent on board, and introduced his senior officers. Fellows glanced over Kirk and the others briefly, but his eyes lingered on Spock, studying him with an intensity Kirk found uncomfortable. "Perhaps we should adjourn to the briefing room, gentlemen."

Once in the briefing room, Fellows moved to the computer station, casually usurping Spock's usual place. Spock glanced at Kirk, and slid into a regular seat. Fellows had already inserted a data cartridge, and sent the readouts to the screens.

"The Defenders of Human Superiority, or DOHS. First founded in the late 21th century, mobilized against the movement to grant certain rights to the non-human, sapient mammals of Terra, the dolphin, the whale, the apes, and the elephant. Went under during the Eugenics Wars, and reemerged when Terra and the Terran colonies admitted the first non-Terran humanoid race into the Federation. Has steadily grown in membership and support, more or less proportionally with increasing non-human membership in the Federation, and increased inter-species interaction. They've mostly been talk and propaganda up until the last few years, when they were taken over by radical new leadership.

Fellows displayed a holo on the screen. "Josiah Hawkins. Formerly president of the Terran Defense League, and left after a losing in a power struggle to its somewhat less radical board. DOHS is larger, with a surprising amount of assets, but a much less organized leadership. Hawkins moved in, took control, rewrote their constitution, and reset their game plan before the majority of them knew what was up. We'd been hoping to discredit him by leaking some of his more violent history and plans to the DOHS board and ranking members, but unfortunately, it had rather the opposite effect. Their membership numbers 800 billion, and the majority of them were disgruntled with what they saw as the weakness of their leaders in the face of an ever stronger non-human threat.

"Hawkins is anything but stupid. We know now he's spent several years training his own agents, vigilantes and terrorists. Last month DOHS published their 34th list of enemies against the Human state. You'll notice it lists their names, crimes and the punishment."

"The **34th** list?" McCoy said skeptically.

"That's right. They've never acted upon them, and regrettably the Federation Intelligence Agency didn't realize the seriousness of Hawkins' intentions. It's not an excuse, but it's a big galaxy, and it's almost impossible to keep track of all the crazies. And of course, DOHS did have a long history of being all talk and no action.

"Candidate one: Arthur Dreyfuss. He was president of the Federation council when it accepted the first non-human member. That was almost eighty years ago. Dreyfuss was 122. He was assassinated last week by DOHS agents at his beach home on the California coastline."

"Candidate two: Richard Dyson, M.D. Inventor of the cross-species immunity factors that saved billons of Andorians from the Blue Death. He was scheduled to speak at a Federation Medical Conference last week, but unexpectedly cancelled when his daughter gave premature birth to his first grandchild. That probably saved his life. We managed to pick up one of the DOHS agents assigned to terminate him. They mistakenly took out the speaker who took his place.

McCoy raised a brow. "They assassinated a physician?"

"For crimes against humanity. Andoria won a significant sector of space that some Terran colonies long coveted. If Andoria had been decimated by the Blue Death, the sector would have gone to Terran interests."

The physician looked stunned.

"Which brings us to our assignment," Fellows said. "Candidate three: Amanda Grayson."

Spock shifted slightly in his seat as the agent brought up a montage of holos reflecting his mother at various stages of her life. He felt his captain's eyes on him and forced his body and his expression to immobility. Fellows didn't seem to notice the interchange, going on with his dissertation.

"She's made the DOHS hit parade every year it's been issued, generally in the top twenty. News of her latest breakthrough, and her nomination for another Zi evidently spurred DOHS to move her up to her current third ranked position. She's long been found guilty, according to DOHS of three counts of high treason against the Human race. The first count: Heresy, the research and publications in her field that accord common values and ethics, formerly considered purely human in kind, across broad species lines, which according to them resulted in a changed policy that allowed a flood of inferior beings to be granted equal membership in the Federation. The second count: Treason: Providing Aid, Guidance and Assistance to an alien government in achieving prominence in Federation affairs and subversion of human interests, that government obviously being Vulcan. The Third: Miscegenation with an alien, resulting in a dangerous pollution of the human race. Her sentence: Death."

Kirk frowned. "Mr. Fellows, please remember we all knew the Lady Amanda."

Fellows glanced at his audience. "Forgive me, Captain." He nodded distantly at Spock. "I didn't intend to be personally offensive."

"Go on, then," Kirk growled.

Fellows sat back, twirling a stylus. "Fortunately, as only a few presently know, the sabotage of Dr. Grayson's flyer, due to a little resourcefulness on her part, merely slightly injured her."

Spock's sharp intake of breath was audible to everyone in the room.

"What did you say?" Kirk demanded.

"She's only injured?" McCoy exclaimed.

Fellows looked searchingly from one to another. "You didn't know?"

"Amanda is alive?" Kirk questioned.

Spock stood abruptly. "If you will excuse me, Captain." He turned and left the conference room.

"Bones," Kirk nodded after his first officer, and said, rising himself, "Excuse me, Mr. Fellows." He headed after McCoy.

Both men paused in the doorway of the empty conference room Spock had retreated to. The Vulcan was standing stiffly, his hands lifted slightly and gripped the back of a chair. His shoulders rose and fell irregularly.

Kirk edged into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. McCoy crossed the room and moving carefully, put a hand on the first officer's shoulder, guiding him around the chair. "Sit down, Spock," he said, as he pushed the Vulcan into it.

Spock sat woodenly, his expression turned inward, his breathing irregular.

"Deep breaths," McCoy was saying. His hands massaged the stiff shoulders comfortingly. "It's all right."

Spock suddenly shuddered hard, and his lungs filled and contracted, expelling the air in a deep sigh. He shrugged off McCoy's hands. "I am all right, Doctor."

"Of course you are," McCoy said, easily. "But you just sit there another minute or so. That was one hell of a shock, Vulcan controls or not."

Spock looked up as Kirk settled into a seat at the conference table, and he flushed a delicate shade of chartreuse. "Forgive me, Captain. That was inexcusable."

Kirk waved it away. "Don't think of it. I'm just glad your mother is all right." He hesitated, looking at McCoy.

"Slightly injured," McCoy repeated soothingly. "I'd wager that means she'll be just fine."

Kirk nodded, holding back his own indignation that Sarek had allowed his son to be as ignorant as the rest of the Federation regarding his mother's true condition. "Provided Mr. Fellows gets to do his job and catches those responsible, before they try again. I think I had better get back."

Spock rose. "I can accompany you."

"Are you sure?" Kirk looked to McCoy, who shrugged. "Probably the best thing for him. But Spock, don't think you're not still in shock from this. I want you to take some downtime when this briefing is over."

"As you wish, Doctor," the Vulcan said neutrally. But his black eyes were glittering and Kirk suspected he was only too eager to work on the problem of tracking down who had attempted his mother's murder. He followed Kirk back into the conference room, and sat down at his former seat as smoothly as if he had never left it.

"Forgive us, Mr. Fellows," Kirk said smoothly. "You can continue now."

"You didn't know." Fellows stated.

Kirk glanced at Spock, then shrugged and answered honestly. "We were given orders that the Enterprise was to take Commander Spock to Vulcan, under standard Condolence Leave. And possibly to serve as a Federation representative --" his voice trailed off, not wanting to add that it was to have been a representative at what could only be considered a state funeral. But Fellows seemed to understand.

"That is the official line on the Enterprise's purpose. Forgive me, Commander," Fellows nodded to Spock. "I had thought you had been informed through private channels, or I would have told you myself."

"No matter," Spock said tersely. "If you would continue?"

"Certainly. DOHS has already claimed responsibility both for Amanda's and for Dreyfuss' death. Following the crash of your mother's aircar," Fellows said, "Vulcan reported an attack on a government official, blacked out information transfer, and shut down all ports throughout their sector of space. For the duration of the crisis, they've reclaimed full autonomy over all civilian and military traffic. They're not letting any individuals in without lengthy and extensive security interviews, and it's almost impossible to get off planet. They've also tripled security at all Vulcan embassies, and issued warnings to all off-planet Vulcan citizens. They've filed legal charges against the FIA of criminal negligence for failure to act upon a known security risk. They refused to accept FIA clearance for anyone wishing to move in or out of Vulcan space, and they've moved their own fleet out to garrison it."

Kirk whistled soundlessly. Fellows tipped his chin in acknowledgement.

"Yes. Since Vulcan controls a significant portion of this quadrant you can imagine what this is doing to information transfer, shipping, and Federation security. Simply put, gentlemen, Vulcan has the DOHS agents corked up and isn't letting them loose. DOHS may know Amanda is alive, or they may not. Either way, Vulcan isn't taking any chances in letting them have another chance at her, letting them loose, or letting any others in to have another try."

Kirk glanced at Spock, and said hesitantly. "With all due respect, isn't Vulcan's reaction a little extreme? You can't hold an entire quadrant of the Federation hostage trying to bottle up a few assassins."

"That depends on your perspective. If this were merely an isolated assassination attempt, without political overtones, that might be the official Federation response. Unfortunately, the Vulcans seem to be taking this as a direct attack on non-human factions by human protagonists. As the Federation's lack of concern for non-human interests has long been a point of contention among many alien worlds and systems, Vulcan will have all the support behind them they could want. Indeed, those groups have been courting Vulcan's support to secede."

"Vulcan has long attempted to persuade the factions long holding those views to remain in the Federation, against sometimes violent opposition," Spock agreed. "An attack by such a human vigilante group against a non-human world leader will fuel those holding that viewpoint. And this time, Vulcan …may not oppose."

"Yes. How the Federation deals with this will be closely scrutinized by the non-human contingent. At present, the Federation can't afford the charges being leveled against it. It's been barely able to hold together without them. And the Federation needs Vulcan more than Vulcan needs the Federation."

"How is that?" McCoy asked. "I wasn't aware that Vulcan had that much of a economic impact on the Federation. Surely, they don't import or export enough to make much difference."

"True, if you consider imports and exports to be only material goods. But there is also political influence. Vulcan has always been very careful to retain its self-sufficiency, Doctor, having joined the Federation with considerable reservations. Their old alliance with their member worlds is still functional, and the Federation is more of a thorn in Vulcan's side than, at least at times, an asset. The political climate on Vulcan continues to weigh the benefits of Federation membership, another reason for Vulcan's weight in Federation affairs. Where Vulcan goes, a surprising number of non-human worlds will go as well. Even the Tellurites prefer Vulcan to Terra."

"Indeed." Spock said dryly. "A questionable ally, but essentially correct. And even most of the human seeded colonies who've developed significant esper sensitivities will side with Vulcan. The …breach…would be a largely even one. And not a clean one, in terms of simple spatial geography. It would be a …chessboard. "

"Yes. How the Federation responds to this threat, not just the threat to Amanda, but this perceived attack on non-human interests by pro-human factions, will affect that climate adversely, and on far more than just Vulcan. If Vulcan leaves the Federation, not only would they take a huge sector of space with them, but they'd take their old alliance of worlds, and probably take the majority of non-human worlds that have aligned behind Sarek and Vulcan's power in other sectors of the Federation. It would split the Federation along human - non-human lines. It would tear the Federation not in two, but in dozens of pieces. And this will weaken the Federation in the face of any number of incursive elements. Klingons, Romulans, and others."

"That's quite true," Spock said evenly.

"So, for the duration of this crisis, the Federation is not about to challenge Vulcan's actions. They can't. Vulcan has the Federation by the short hairs, and we have to let them call the shots. And not just politically. Vulcan also exports a considerable amount of technology. Fortunately, while the technology Vulcan exports is critical to the Federation, the technology already exported is viable, at least temporarily, without Vulcan's intervention. At best, we estimate six months before Vulcan's garrison will seriously threaten the viability of the Federation.

"All because of one woman," McCoy said softly. "Who knew she was such a Helen?"

Fellows raised an ironic eyebrow. "Certainly **she'd** deny the role. There's been debate for years on Amanda's relative political importance to Vulcan, and thus to Federation politics. Officially, she keeps a very low profile, partly for security reasons, partly out of preference. She handles the press brilliantly," he commented, his irony touched with more than a trace of envy. "Gives them just enough tidbits and anecdotes to make her a press darling without ever compromising security, and she always solidifies and legitimates Vulcan's position very credibly with both human and non-human media." He shrugged reflectively. "As we all know, most of politics, gentlemen, is public relations. There's no question at all that her media skills have contributed solidly to Vulcan's position, and thus to a certain extent, it's prominence in Federation politics. Officially, however, she holds no government position. She isn't listed anywhere on Sarek's staff, even as an advisor. She's just…" he drawled the words. "A teacher. That's her line. That's the official line."

Kirk glanced at Spock, but the Vulcan did not even raise a brow, refusing to be drawn.

"Privately, her security clearance has climbed till it is now equivalent to Sarek's, a High Council level. That's not something handed out to Ambassador's wives. There are those who compare Sarek's early career with the incredible success he's achieved since he's married Amanda, and try to make something of it. It could be his experience in marrying a human gave him incredible insight in dealing with humans on a political basis, and that he and Amanda never hold any political discussions or strategy sessions." Fellows eyes slid across Spock's face lazily, but the Vulcan first officer's expression didn't flicker. "But then there's the matter of her security clearance. It could be, as DOHS has suggested, she's calling all the shots, helping Vulcan succeed at the expense of the human race, in effect, a Mata Hari, atraitor. But then, it's common knowledge she has a career of her own, and a successful one, to which she devotes most of her time. And that she …seems…to have little overt interest or influence in her husband's career. Other than as a wifely supportive one." Fellows shrugged. "It goes over well in the press."

"In Federation political circles, though, it's generally accepted, if never acknowledged, that she's a high level advisor, with influence in some respects equal to T'Pau's. Or a little less. Certainly, Sarek rarely goes anywhere without her. However Amanda may be regarded, and whatever her function, Sarek is head of the Vulcan High Council, leader of the wealthiest and most politically powerful clan, and T'Pau's heir. With T'Pau's death, Sarek will take over her position as ruler, or clan leader, for all the Vulcan clans. Not just for Vulcan but for all its colonies. And as she's his bondmate, his life is …tied to hers. At least in some respects. And she's also considered, at least by marriage, to be of high importance in Vulcan politics, in the clan hierarchy. Vulcan will protect Amanda, if for no other reason, then because Sarek can't be risked. The alien worlds allied with Vulcan, particularly the telepaths, will be outraged at such a blatant attack against a fellow telepathic race. The non-humans will be outraged at an attack against an alien political figure. The fact that it's by an pro-human faction against non-human factions will polarize the Federation."

"But there are more active political leaders than these top ten." Kirk objected, looking over the list Fellows had displayed on the computer terminal. "Why not go after them? Why bother a diplomat's wife, advisor or not, kill a retired politician, go after some medical researcher? They aren't important targets, per se."

"Security, for one thing. It's difficult to get to the Federation High Council members. Sarek himself would be damn hard to pin down. Amanda, on the other hand, has always been a terrible security risk. She hates being shadowed by any security service, Federation or Vulcan, and hasn't made a secret of it from day one of her marriage." Fellows shrugged, "And then revenge, for another reason. The anger these fanatics have against those who they believed originally betrayed them is extreme. Terrorism. What human will lightly vote against DOHS policies, with DOHS actively assassinating such traitors? And finally, expediency. With only a missed attempt to assassinate one diplomat's wife, they've polarized Federation alliances, shut down half a quadrant, and made considerable progress towards the dissolution of the Federation as we know it. Why not go after her? They don't need official political figures." He sat back and eyed the Starfleet officers.

"If the Federation can't find out who attempted her murder, and assure Vulcan the threat is over, then Vulcan might well secede from the Federation and take an entire block of worlds, sectors of space, whole planetary systems throughout the Federation with it. This has the entire Federation is at risk. Exactly as DOHS wished. She, gentlemen, is what is known as a perfect catalyst."


	3. Chapter 3

**Of Two Worlds**

**By**

**Pat Foley**

**Chapter 3 **

"**This tape will self-destruct in five seconds…"**

The perfect catalyst crossed her arms and glared at the Vulcan security forces surrounding her. Right now she would have traded any one of them for a wicked witch, or brother of the same. At least **then** they could be melted. Though on Vulcan, enough pails of water to melt all those around her weren't always easy to come by. And given they weren't Oz witches, but very real Vulcans, she had no chance of escape. This Dorothy had to surrender.

She sighed and tried again to satisfy her questioners. "How many times do I have to say it?" She strove to keep her voice Vulcan calm, but her frustration showed. Forces had converged on her almost as soon as her flyer had been discovered. She'd been rushed first to the Terran Emergency Center associated with the Terran Embassy in Shikhar. But when it had been discovered that her "accident" had been no accident but sabotage, she'd been hustled out of there to the Healer's Enclave. As if even the Terrans at the Embassy couldn't be trusted. She didn't see why they hadn't just let her go home. There was nothing they could do for her here.

She was largely acclimated to Vulcan, but Healers believed in warmth in cases of injury. The Enclave's hot and stuffy rooms compared unfavorably to the cool mountain breezes of her Fortress home. Vulcans had little concept of painkillers, nor were there any healer's tricks for a concussion, so she was under no particular treatment. Yet her entreaties to go home had been deferred and her guardians had been distinctly...nervous...for Vulcans. They'd allowed her human physician to see her, but strictly supervised, barely even allowing him to speak to her or her to him. They had not allowed him to administer anything, even though she'd known him for nearly forty years, and he had even treated Sarek once, though for a some purely superficial scrapes.

Not that she wanted any more noxious drugs for herself. She still had a hangover from the ones she'd been given at the Terran Emergency Center. But between the drug hangover, the concussion, her various aches and pains, the stuffy room and the overbearing manners of the guard surrounding her, she was not in the best of tempers for all this cloak and dagger nonsense.

So someone had taken a shot at her, figuratively speaking. It had happened before and would no doubt happen again. And yes, she was grateful the guard was going all out to catch them, but Vulcans always went so overboard on their ...efficiency. And she was getting weary of it. Had she had a pail of water in her hand, she would have tried for some witch-melting and made good her escape. As it was, this Dorothy was definitely out-maneuvered.

She sighed and yielded to the Vulcans waiting for her response. "It was a perfectly ordinary day," she said for what felt like the dozenth time. "I went to work. I taught classes. I held office hours. I went home. I crashed in the desert. Wait – let me think – that **wasn't **part of an ordinary day."

"But if you would attempt to recollect, Lady Amanda," Stdar said patiently. "For anything **out** of the ordinary."

Amanda rubbed her temples. Her head was aching from the concussion and it was hard to think clearly at all. Harder still with all these Vulcan guards standing around her making her nervous. Not that she didn't know them all. Stdar served as the head of T'Pau's Palace guard and essentially supervised all security forces on Vulcan. Stdent led the Fortress guard and specifically Sarek's detail, coordinating all the high security required of a Federation level ambassador, off and on his home planet. And the burly Sascek was normally in charge of **her** detail when Federation tempers were running high and even she, a lowly teacher, had to suffer under extra security. Sascek looked, for a Vulcan, shamefaced and frustrated. He was, under all the ancient traditions, sworn to protect her with his life. But that was only tradition. In reality, things had been relatively quiet on Vulcan. There had been nothing ominous in the area of Federation threats. Nothing new had turned up in Federation intelligence or in the standard visa reviews of any outworlders newly come to Vulcan. So she'd been living happily free of the overbearing presence of security for some time. And Sascek had been peacefully harvesting plomeek on his farm in the Llangon foothills with his two sons and his wife T'Jar when his Lady had been attacked. It was difficult to believe that Vulcan had been at peace for thousand of years when you looked at Sascek now.

While crime was virtually unknown on Vulcan, the ancient traditions of a warrior race still allowed for a clan guard. Between the time of Surak's reforms and Vulcan's entrance to the Federation, the Guard had held a partially ceremonial position, trotted out for state occasions and the yearly resealing of the council to Surak's philosophies. The former armies, the palace, fortress and clan guards had also turned to peacekeeping functions. It was they who patrolled the sky and spacelanes and responded to signals of distress. Traffic accidents such as were common with humans were rare and almost unheard of on Vulcan, but illness, unforeseen weather disruptions, sudden vicious sandstorms or desert deluges and the even rarer operator or vehicle error required regular patrols. There were weather and terrain related accidents -- travelers or tourists **would** go out on the forge at the most unpropitious times and get caught in sandstorms, deluges and sandslides in the mountains.

The guard also manned the spaceports and customs offices, where they scrutinized visas, did background checks and escorted troublemakers off planet. With the entrance of Vulcan into the Federation, and Vulcan's prominence in the Federation, the port traffic and security risks were considerable, especially when Federation tempers were running high over some issue.

The guard's cruisers also patrolled the systems of Vulcan's ancient planetary alliances, rendering aid, and keeping a watchful sensor trained on the sectors of space across which Vulcan warriors had long ago beaten back the Romulans.

Vulcans did believe peace should not depend on force. But that didn't mean they didn't fail to understand the use of it when it did. They simply profoundly regretted the necessity on the rare times it was needed. In a related way Vulcans did not believe in destroying the many dangerous predators that comprised Vulcan fauna and flora. But if a lematya should think to attack a person, the guard went on the hunt, expert with stun gun and tranquilizer dart, and that lematya woke up with a headache, far in the mountains away from civilization.

The guard employed the same methods across all their purview, be it the foothills of the Llangdon mountains or their quadrant of space. And whether the perpetrator of violence was a rogue lematya, an anti-Federation or anti-Vulcan terrorist, or a fleet of Romulan incursionists, the result was the same.

Vulcans were bred to peace but they'd been firstborn to war, and they understood well how to give a lesson in deterrence. In fact they understood it so well, and executed it with such dispatch, they rarely had to give it twice. To the extent that even their long estranged Romulan brothers, who had eschewed the teachings of Surak for warrior ways, never put a toe over the Vulcan side of the Neutral Zone, choosing to foray and skirmish on boundaries that bordered Terran colonies. It was that Romulan threat that had made the Federation so diligently pursue the first Federation/Vulcan alliance that had brought Sarek to Terra. And raised the guard from its largely ceremonial to its presently more active role.

But as to crime? On Vulcan? Apart from the rare outworlder instances, all of whom were swiftly expelled back off world, it was virtually unheard of. So no real detective force existed on Vulcan, pointless in a society where crime was virtually unknown. In the rare instances where crimes occurred, the forces that handled it were those who handled all security, the ancient remnants of the hereditary palace guardsmen, the former warriors of Vulcan.

So those that stood around her were those she was all familiar with and accustomed to from years of one clan or Federation function after another. In this case, familiarity bred, if not contempt than a sense of frustration. For Amanda, these were the people who tagged her steps when she was offworld. Whose security constraints restricted her freedom, even with the best of intentions. And who were the first and most constant reminder that there was a whole Federation out there who weren't **all** pleased that Vulcan was a member and that she was the human half of a very public Vulcan/Terran alliance.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful for the guard's care. But there were times when gratitude was harder to come by than others. And she was coming to the slow and painful (in more ways than one) realization that this latest attack probably meant another long tedious period where once again she'd be "escorted" by guards wherever she went, even on Vulcan. It wasn't improving her temper.

Amanda drew a deep breath. "Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Your flyer was brought down by a coded signal," Stdar reminded her. "Such could not have come from outside the craft. The normal security measures would have prevented it."

Amanda looked up at them. "You mean I brought whatever sabotaged my flyer into it with me? When? Have I been carrying it around all this time?" A look of alarm crossed her face. "Is Sarek--"

"There has been an extensive search," Stdar said. "We have found nothing similar in Sarek's possessions."

"So I was the chosen one," Amanda muttered. "Didn't you find anything when you searched the remains of my flyer?"

Stdar hesitated and glanced at Sarek. After a moment, Sarek took his wife's hand. "Amanda, there was a fire in the interior of the cabin."

"But I thought you said--"

"You were – fortunately – thrown clear on impact. The craft's mechanical systems were essentially intact – enough to show us the means of sabotage was a coded transmitter. The computers were shielded and were likewise functional and showed only the receipt of a coded transmission. You must have brought that transmitter on board. But there was nothing in the possessions thrown clear with you that evidenced such a device. Of course, there was the fire. No doubt the transmitter was meant to self destruct. Such a device would be very small. The fire, however, was quite extensive. You were …fortunate…to have been thrown clear."

"The party," she said suddenly.

"My wife?"

"There was something out of the ordinary. At the end of the day, my department gave me a party." She looked at Sarek. "For the Zi. Nothing special. A cake." She thought laboriously back to that innocent moment. "A holo banner."

Sarek perked up. "Did you bring it with you? The banner? It might have contained a signal in its programming."

"Are you accusing my colleagues?" Amanda looked up in astonishment. "Sarek, I've known all those people for years. They've all been security cleared."

"Amanda, I am not accusing anyone. The perpetrator could have infiltrated this device into your possessions in any number of ways. I am merely seeking data."

"Data." She rubbed her aching temples again. "I didn't bring the holo banner home. It is still probably hanging in my office. But I did bring…Was the sculpture thrown clear?"

"Sculpture?"

"My students made a sculpture. An awful hideous statue of me. It deserved burning is all I can say. It was meant as a joke."

"A joke," Sarek repeated, with no expression in his voice, as if the concept was completely unfamiliar.

"Yes, a joke! Don't go all Vulcan on me now, you know what a joke is. Oh, my head is splitting." She drew a deep breath, calming herself. "I didn't bring the sculpture in myself, but Tony put it in the back of the aircar. In the cargo section. I'd forgotten about it. They all insisted I should bring it home, for you to see." She looked at Sarek. "It was made of old data cartridges."

There was a telling silence from the Vulcans in the room. Then Stdar said. "Data cartridges. Which they insisted that you bring home. Lady Amanda. Do you not realize the profound security risk in accepting such a--"

"It was just a joke. From friends." They looked at her, unmoved. Unyielding. "Do you know how many times a colleague or student will hand me a data cartridge – something to review or analyze? Do I have to be searched now every time I leave my office for home? "

The silence in return to that question was telling.

And ever the diplomat, Sarek quickly headed off that dangerous discussion. To fight that battle another day, under more propitious circumstances. Not for nothing was he reckoned a canny opponent. "There was no sculpture in the aircar ruins."

"No doubt it had a mechanism to ignite after activation," Stdar said.

"So you're saying this…destruct sequence was in the sculpture?" Amanda's eyes widened. "Was I meant to bring it to Sarek?"

Stdar shook his head. "No, Lady Amanda. The transmission received by your aircar computers – from inside the craft – was to override all normal failsafes and shut down all systems for full maintenance. There would have been no harm to Sarek. Unless he were with you and that obviously was not the case. It seems this message – and the intent -- was specifically to …kill… you. And so they would have succeeded had you not jettisoned the fuel cells and used the baffles as a type of …unusual parachute. Very ingenious."

"But who would do such a thing?" Amanda said. "And why?"

"Both excellent questions. And do not be concerned, my lady. We will discover the answers to both with all due dispatch."

"But--" Amanda stared but she was looking at the retreating backs of the guardsmen filing out of the room, her husband with them, all deep in conversation. She rose and attempted to follow but the door closed behind them, showing her a glimpse of further guards outside her door. "I want to get out of here," she complained. The two guards merely raised a dismissive brow and closed the door to her face. Nor did it open to her palm.

She gave it a kick and regretted that as her bare foot came in contact with unyielding stone. And hobbled back to a chair. The table next to it held a round crystal of the type Vulcans sometimes used in meditation to aid their healing trances. She could just imagine Aunty Em's face in the stone. "All I'm missing is the hourglass. And Toto," she muttered to the empty room. And without that resourceful little dog, or a pair of ruby slippers, it looked like she was trapped here, at least for the immediate future. She let her aching head drop to her arms and finally, still affected by the Terran painkillers she'd been given at the Emergency Center, fell into a drug laced sleep, head pillowed next to the meditation crystal, dreaming of fleeing from armies of flying monkeys, all with surprisingly human faces.


	4. Chapter 4

**Of Two Worlds**

By

Pat Foley

**Chapter 4 **

"**Your mission, Jim, should you choose to accept it…" **

"A perfect catalyst?" Kirk echoed in response to the FIA agent's pronouncement.

"I quite agree," Spock said.

Kirk shook his head slowly, "Incredible."

"However, it is a fact that DOHS is not putting all its eggs in this one basket," Fellows said. "DOHS' threat to the Federation is quite real, and Dr. Grayson is only one of many targets. They are no longer even secretive about their plans. They've claimed they have the next seven assassins in place, and plan to not only complete their sentences within the year, they've warned they'll continue their actions until the Federation is purged of all such traitors."

"There are no non-humans on the DOHS list." Spock observed neutrally.

"That's correct. They consider aliens beneath their notice. Their sentences are for crimes **by** humans **against** humanity. Basically, they're hoping to accomplish by terrorism what their political agenda has failed to accomplish. They want the Federation to disavow its non-human members, or they want the human worlds to organize to create a new Federation."

"That's lunacy." McCoy said.

"Well, these are fanatics, Doctor," Fellows responded, a trace of exasperation in his tone, almost the first sign of personality. "There is nothing to say fanatics can't be well organized."

"And our mission?" Kirk prompted.

"Basically to eradicate the DOHS threat in the Eridani sector, specifically, Vulcan, and most specifically, the agents after Amanda. The FIA was hoping to deal with this whole situation, when it learned of it, in as subtle a manner as possible, due to its politically explosive nature. Vulcan's position," he glanced at Spock, "has unfortunately prevented that. But it now seems that may have been a lost cause from the start, given DOHS' pronouncements. In any event, our immediate task is to remove the DOHS assassins, and restore enough faith in FIA intelligence and security so that Vulcan will recall its own garrison, and restore normal commerce and information transfer."

The intercom whistled, and Kirk punched the channel open. Chekhov's features superimposed themselves over the data on the screen. "Priority orders coming in from Starfleet, Captain. We need a command officer to acknowledge."

"On my way."

Fellows laid a hand on Kirk's arm. "Perhaps you could delegate that to your First Officer, captain. I would like to go over some security arrangements with you."

Spock raised an eyebrow to his Captain, and after a moment, Kirk nodded dismissal to the First Officer.

"What security arrangements?" Kirk said, when the door closed behind Spock.

McCoy rose. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with me."

"I'd like you to stay, Doctor," Fellows said. "This does concern you."

McCoy sank back down, and Fellows regarded them both evenly. "What do you know of your first officer's family, Captain?"

"I didn't even know of his family until just recently," Kirk said neutrally.

"The Babel Conference."

"Yes. My first officer is a private person. I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Unfortunately, your first officer chose the wrong parents for that." Fellows said shortly, and changed the terminal screens. "On both sides of his family. We are in an unenviable position, gentlemen. We can't investigate an attempted murder that occurred 100 parsecs away. But at present, no Federation forces have been able to get close to the situation. And even before this attempt, it has been notoriously difficult to establish proper information channels on Vulcan. Vulcan security is extremely difficult for humans to infiltrate and they are, as you say, a private people. Yet information is always the key to an operation like this. You should see what we have." He raised an eyebrow. "Unless your concern for your first officer's privacy takes precedence over your duty?"

"Go on." Kirk said shortly.

Fellows keyed a switch. "Background on the subject. She was born Amanda Heather Riana Grayson Rudbeck, only child of Rudyard and Riana Rudbeck, heir to the Rudbeck empire, considered one of the top 100 financial conglomerates in the Federation.

Kirk's mouth opened soundlessly.

"You didn't know that?" Fellows nodded. "She has quite a personal fortune, though she hasn't used the Rudbeck surname since her teens. Rudyard inherited the empire himself, from his great-grandfather, but he was a financial genius in his own right. It seemed everything he touched turned to money. He died of a heart attack on their yacht on a Mediterranean cruise."

He shrugged. "I'll skip over her earlier background. She met Sarek while he was in Geneva negotiating the Federation/Vulcan alliance treaty terms. She was there working with the noted ethologist Jacob Meyers. She'd already made something of a name for herself countering Meyer's original theories. Somehow she caught Sarek's attention. He made it a condition of the negotiations that she do a comparative study on some treaty talking points. And the rest, as they say, is history."

"Love at first sight?" McCoy asked with amusement. "Well, well."

Fellows raised a skeptical brow. "There **are** those who quaver about romance. Certainly the scandal rags were full of it. But it's hard to say what brought about that unlikely alliance. Some, more cynical perhaps, claim Sarek noticed how brilliantly she handled the press, the interest and favorable publicity that she had generated in her own field, and coldly decided to annex her as a political asset."

"Why didn't he just hire her?" Kirk asked. "That would be more…logical."

"Maybe he thought she couldn't be bought. I won't deny there was some thought, some hope even, by Federationists that she **could** be bought, as an useful influence of human interests with the Vulcans."

"A spy in the enemy camp?" McCoy queried.

Fellows shrugged. "At least a very human influence to a very powerful Vulcan. She didn't take long to quickly dash those hopes. It hasn't exactly made her beloved among the Terran delegations and humanists. One can't quite say she has …switched loyalties, but she has obviously felt that Terra has to make their own case with Vulcan interests without her inside influence. And there's no question that whatever influence she does have privately, publicly she consolidates Vulcan's views very well. She started off as a Cinderella darling with the popular press and she cleverly took advantage of that interest to put forward all Vulcan's positions in the media. Between Sarek's formidable logic and her charm, and the Federation's need for Vulcan, over the years she's helped Sarek make Vulcan the force that now holds a major block of worlds behind it. By now her position is so consolidated, that no human/alien issue is considered complete without some sort of quote from her in the media. And don't think the political analysts don't look for it. She's become a press icon, if an off-the-record one, and she's formidable in that respect. Oh, it's all very subtle. She holds no official position. All her quotes are officially off the record, not part of the Vulcan delegation, meaning she can't be challenged. But the Terran side has nothing to compare or counter against her. She can take a broad shot across our bow with almost complete immunity."

"Our bow?" McCoy asked. "Aren't we all in the Federation together?"

Fellows shrugged. "I'm speaking of the Terran view. Which is often on the opposite side of the negotiating table from the Vulcan one. She handles the populist media, the public relations aspect. Sarek mops up the negotiations at the table. It's a formidable act. So, it's no wonder DOHS went after her. Regardless of Sarek's reasons for marrying Amanda, she's served Vulcan interests very well. As for her and Sarek personally – whatever 'romance' happened between them didn't take long."

"A whirlwind romance?" McCoy drawled. "I didn't know Vulcans had it in them. Certainly **our** resident Vulcan can't seem to --"

"Doctor. Please. Regardless of their personal relationship, Sarek certainly seemed to know what he wanted. He demanded of the Federation Secretary that Amanda be freed of all other legal commitments within six weeks of their first meeting. That's classified, by the way. Though its rather common knowledge at the highest level in Federation Security affairs."

"And they did it?" Kirk asked.

"Oh, yes. She was only under contract to Harvard, and to some media outlets, but the Federation Attorney General didn't waste any time digging up an obscure law to release her from those. Though in fact she met most of those commitments. But for all practical purposes, she was an essential part of those treaty tributes."

"You're not suggesting she was …unwilling?" McCoy drawled. "Forgive me, sir, but I've met the lady. I'm no judge of Vulcans, but I am a fair judge of humans. And when her husband was in my sickbay she rarely left his side. And she didn't seem like a pushover to me."

Fellows shrugged. "After years of being in a telepathic bond with a Vulcan, who can say how much she's been ….influenced."

"I don't much care for that assertion," Kirk frowned.

And McCoy added, "Seems to me humans are notoriously hard to influence, in matters of the heart."

"Gentlemen, all I am saying is no one knows. Too much of all this is classified, and there is so much of rumor and hyperbole in all the news reports of that time, so much in the populist press, the scandal sheets and romance rags, that even a security agent would be hard pressed to know the full truth. I'm not sure if she herself even knows the whole story. It certainly wasn't all roses between her and Sarek then. There were several reports of serious arguments between them, and the press caught Amanda at least twice storming out of the embassy in a fury. But whatever their arguments, they settled them, and whatever his… persuasions, she accepted them. Their marriage was very private, but they've been living in the media's eye ever since. When Sarek completed the treaty negotiations, he returned to Vulcan, and he took Amanda with him. And she's stayed at his side ever since."

"But I still don't see the point of this," Kirk said coldly. "Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda's private life is really none of our business."

"But it is, Captain," Fellows returned. "Surely you realize now that with the security that they live under, the only way someone could get to Amanda, regardless of her headstrong views of security, would be to become a **part** of that private life. And the only way we're going to catch that person is to also be part of that private life. There's no sense pretending otherwise. It's our duty. It's your duty."

"We?" McCoy said, when Kirk seemed unable to do more than stare at Fellows, dumbfounded.

"Why was the Enterprise was diverted to take you to Vulcan?" Kirk asked. "Why pull my ship off patrol and send her across two quadrants? The Gallant was right in there. They're a starship as well, and, as a matter of fact, just had a refit 9 months ago. They're as or more capable for this mission, whatever it is, than the Enterprise."

"The answer to that is wearing commander's stripes," Fellows said easily.

Kirk narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting Spock has had anything to do with this assignment? We haven't sent or received anything by subspace to or from Vulcan. He's had no contact. And from what you say, he wouldn't have been able to make contact, given Vulcan has instigated a virtual communications blackout."

"That's true."

"Then explain to me why my ship is taking you to Vulcan. I understand why Spock was cut orders to go there, but he could have taken a long range shuttle, and caught up with the Gallant in twelve hours. We thought we were going to represent the Federation at a state funeral but obviously the Federation and the commanding Admiral know that is not the case. Or at least you know it now. Why is my ship diverted from our patrol?"

"Starfleet did order the Gallant to Vulcan when word came of Amanda's assassination attempt," Fellows admitted. "And the original plan was that I'd be on her. But by that time Vulcan had set up its garrison and cleared its airspace. It ordered the Gallant away." He smiled at the astonishment on the captain's face as Kirk tried to imagine Vulcan ordering off a Federation allied starship. "You find that surprising?"

"Yes," Kirk admitted.

"Why should Vulcan be any less efficient when it comes to their own protection? They've were defending themselves from Romulans for millennia before the Federation even heard of Romulans."

"You're saying the Gallant disregarded her own orders? That she left her post at Vulcan Space Central's command?" Kirk skepticism was obvious. "A starship captain disregarding orders?"

"You've been known to do that yourself, Captain. But in this case, the Gallant didn't have any choice. Seeing as how she was looking down the maw of three of Vulcan's best light defensive cruisers." Fellows half smiled at Kirk's shock. "They are smaller, but reputedly more maneuverable in a fight than a starship. And their weaponry is rumored to be better as well, though whether it is or isn't is also top secret. Vulcans aren't known for firing their phasers. Certainly not for testing them where observers can …observe. We just don't know much about those ships. We do know their security is virtually unbreachable and they have some of the best defenses in the Federation. And Vulcans aren't known for bluff."

"I'll agree with that," McCoy drawled. "Jim still hasn't managed to teach--"

"Bones," Kirk gestured his Chief Medical Officer to silence.

"Faced with that showdown, the Gallant moved off."

"But their security **isn't** totally unbreachable, given what happened to Amanda," McCoy argued.

"Yes, but even that's a source of deep concern," Fellows said, his brow furrowed. "How **did **DOHS get to Amanda? Vulcan does full visa reviews of anyone seeking to go on-planet. Anyone likely to come in contact with Amanda is given even more scrutiny, a habit from her earliest days on Vulcan when every press hound was after her. Her security on Vulcan isn't very tight now, not like it is when she and Sarek travel off planet, or compared to when she was first married. But Vulcan security screens everyone so thoroughly before they can get on planet that its almost inconceivable an assassin could slip through."

"Except one did," Kirk commented.

"Yes," Fellows agreed. "But that the Vulcans haven't arrested someone immediately means it is no obvious recent entry. This looks like a plant. A sleeper. A spy with a false identity, one very well cast. And that means we don't know how long they've been there, or how many other plants might be there, and who else might be targeted. The attack on Amanda is bad enough. I've told you something of the importance of her role, however unofficial, in Federation/Vulcan affairs, so that you understand the importance of this mission. She may look like an Ambassador's wife, a teacher, as she portrays herself, but she's rather something more. And whatever you or I might think of it, based on their history and his prior actions, obviously Sarek considers her of ...import... to his profession.

"I see," Kirk said soberly.

"Apart from Amanda, if **Sarek **is killed or injured, the Federation would lose the most experienced and reasoned voice arguing for Vulcan's continued presence in the Federation. He may not be always on Terra's side, but he is a major force for unity in the Federation. And with the loss of him, under such circumstances, Vulcan no doubt **would **secede."

"What do you expect the Enterprise do? We're not trained in espionage. Not **this** kind of espionage," Kirk asked.

"The Federation is hoping that, because of Spock, Vulcan will at least give the Enterprise a parking orbit. Something she denied the Gallant. And with that, a chance for **me **to negotiate for a better role in resolving this crisis. I have to get to Sarek. Before anyone else can get to him."

"Given that DOHS threats are only against humans so far, is it really likely that Sarek is at risk?" McCoy asked.

"Whatever that risk, we can't take it."

"But what if the Vulcans don't allow the Enterprise in?" Kirk asked, thinking unhappily of his ship being fired upon by a superior or near superior and friendly Federation-allied force. Or worse, being expected or ordered to fire on them. "Are we supposed to force our way in? To fight our way in? To fire on Vulcan ships? A friendly and allied Federation planet? One that has already suffered an attack? You can't expect the Enterprise to fire on Vulcan. In those circumstances, I'd have to retreat, just like the Gallant."

"We hope – we expect – that Sarek will at least let Spock through the garrison. And hopefully you and McCoy as well, attending him as his friends. It's well known that since the Corridan incident, you all have something of a personal relationship with your First Officer's family. And you've got that golden tongue, that persuasive manner. You can persuade your First Officer. And Sarek has so recently reconciled with his son – yes we know about that too -- that if Spock requests it of his father, we believe Sarek will let all three of you through. On planet. In place. And that then, somehow, you will find a way, a reason, to bring me down. That's all I need.

"Now, wait a minute," McCoy said. "I'm a doctor, not a damn spy. I'm not sure I want any part of this setup."

"You're a doctor, and you've got a patient there. Amanda was injured, and the final report we had before communications were shut down was that Sarek pulled her right out of the Terran Emergency Center. He isn't trusting her to be safe even in the hospital affiliated with the Terran embassy. She'll have no one to treat her. But after the surgery you did on him, we think he'll trust you, McCoy. At least, we have hope," he added.

McCoy sat back, silenced by this.

"What little relationship I have with Sarek – and my relationship with Spock – **is** based on trust. And honor," Kirk said. "You can't expect me to take advantage of that relationship."

"I can and will. Those are your orders, Captain." Seeing Kirk's grave doubt, he added, urgently. "We have to get a window open in this information blackout. And somehow I have to get to Sarek as well, Captain. You must realize that Sarek will keep Amanda close at hand now. And if this sleeper agent is still at large, if the DOHS agent discovers Amanda is still alive, and if they try again, if Sarek is nearby and is attacked, injured, perhaps assassinated, that could be it, gentlemen. Losing Amanda would be bad enough for Federation politics. Losing Sarek, in these circumstances, in an attack by pro-Human forces against non-human factions would mean the end of the Federation as we know it. We have got to get in there, and prevent it. This is as important as any mission you might have executed."

Kirk drew a pained breath. "I suppose we have no choice."

"I'm still no spy," McCoy muttered.

But no one paid him any attention.


End file.
